


I know I took the path that you would never want for me

by lanyon



Series: I gave you hell through all the years [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Kent Parson</b> • @kentparson<br/>look who’s back #favoriteroommate</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know I took the path that you would never want for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idrilka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilka/gifts).



> +(Belated) HAPPY BIRTHDAY IDRIL <333  
> +For those of you who are reading [Bad Boy Boogie](http://archiveofourown.org/series/357521), this may be post-canon or it may be alternate universe but it is very much set in the future. Or a future, anyway. I guess this comes under the category of HUUUUUURT/comfort.  
> +For those of you who are not reading, this may not make lots of sense.  
> +Warnings for passing moments of homophobia.  
> +Title from Imagine Dragons.
> 
>  **edited on 14/02/2016 to add:** at some point, this became an AU.

“You’re back.”

Gabriel feels the words as much as he hears them, a hot whisper against his neck, as Kent hugs him and maybe holds on a heartbeat too long. Gabriel maybe holds on a little too long, too, wincing as they part. 

“Shit, is your shoulder—”

“It’s okay, Kent,” says Gabriel. “Just stiff from the flight.”

Kent looks concerned and Gabriel hates seeing that expression on Kent’s face. He hates seeing the very tiny lines around Kent’s eyes, even though he’s only twenty-nine. He’s got three Stanley Cups behind him now, the most famous of which is the one from last season when Parson and Zimmermann broke virtually every scoring record together. 

The Aces’ record book is still thick with Kent’s name but now Zimmermann is writing history with him and, sometimes, when Gabriel feels exhausted by it all, he thinks that everyone else is a footnote. 

“Let’s get your bags.”

“You didn’t have to come meet me,” says Gabriel. “I could have taken a cab.”

“I wanted to,” says Kent and he looks a little hurt and Gabriel feels worse. He knows he’s tired from the flight and his shoulder aches more than he wants to admit and, when he was first traded, he had dreamed of a glorious homecoming to Vegas, to Kent and to the Aces but the truth is —

♤

**_Aces Guilty of Sentiment_ **  
S. Reilly.

The return of Gabriel Charbonneau to the Aces is a mistake. No one denies that impact that Charbonneau had in his early days; he won the Calder for good reason, despite being a third round pick who got his break through luck and tenacity. In the five years since he and goalkeeper Kristian Kivi were traded for Jack Zimmermann, the young Finnish goalkeeper has gone from strength to strength for the Falconers and has become indispensable. Charbonneau’s progress has faltered though. There are those who blame the management at the Falconers; Charbonneau’s physical play was not particularly compatible with the Falconers’ game plan and his time on the Falconers’ third line was not an easy one. 

A brief sojourn to his hometown of Montreal seemed to bring about a great improvement in Charbonneau’s play and, just when he looked to be back on track and living up to expectations, he was unexpectedly traded to the Houston Aeros where he has all but languished since a serious shoulder injury, suffered in training, two seasons ago. 

So why, now, is he back at the Aces? Inside sources confirm this reporter’s suspicion that it is sentimentality and we should not be surprised if Gabriel Charbonneau announces his retirement from the sport at the age of twenty-seven. 

Sentiment over cap space: do not expect the Aces to retain the Stanley Cup this year if this is an indication of their strategy.

♤

“I missed you,” says Kent, quietly, once they’re in the car. At some point in the past five years, Kent’s turned into the kind of guy who drives an Audi SUV rather than a Lamborghini. He fiddles with the stereo for longer than he needs to and Gabriel can’t help but feel Kent’s building up to look at him. 

“I missed you too,” says Gabriel, because it’s the truth. They haven’t seen each other as often as they promised they would. He’s not going to blame Kent that life distracted him, even though he knows better than almost anyone that Kent is not a distractible man. 

“Are you ever going to tell me—?” Kent gestures at Gabriel’s shoulder.

“No,” says Gabriel. Even if he hadn’t signed the nondisclosure agreement in Houston, there’s no way he’s ever going to talk about it with anyone, not even Kent Parson. Maybe especially not Kent Parson because he’s one of Gabriel’s favourite people. Gabriel wants to move on; it was a training accident, that’s all. “My slapshot isn’t what it was, and neither is my left hook, but I can still play, Kent.” He says it almost pleadingly and that’s what makes Kent look at him.

“I know you can, Charbo,” says Kent, gravely, and a silence hangs between them and it’s one that would have been filled, once upon a time, with more words or a heated glance or a touch that promised things hadn’t changed between them. They stopped touching each other like that years ago. “And even if you can’t—”

“I can,” says Gabriel and he knows his voice is sharp but he has to believe this because if he can’t play hockey, he’s not sure what he can do, or what he is.

“Okay,” says Kent. He’s not saying it placatingly or meaninglessly because Kent’s never been one for platitudes outside post-game interviews, when he has always made it his mission to sound as bland as possible, even when he’s just scored a hat-trick or beaten his own point streak record. 

Gabriel nods and breathes out, and out. “Thank you.” He frowns. “For coming to get me.”

“I always will, you know,” says Kent and Gabriel wonders when Kent grew up to be this stalwart man, though Kent has never lacked for loyalty. 

“Bittle will have baked, you know.”

Gabriel doesn’t really know Zimmermann’s boyfriend beyond polite nods; his impression is of a kind man, with pink cheeks and a fervour for hospitality and generosity. 

“He doesn’t know what your favourite pie is so we probably won’t be able to move for pies. Kit Two will be delighted, if she hasn’t brought about Bittle’s demise by tripping him up.”

“His business is going well, yeah?”

“Thriving,” says Kent and Gabriel can’t detect any bitterness at all. In fact, he thinks Kent might be quite fond of Eric Bittle. “Apparently there’s a market in Las Vegas for pie delivery.” 

They fall silent for a while and Kent is calm. 

Kent has changed. 

♤

 **Gabriel Charbonneau** • @gcharbonneau  
It’s good to be home @LasVegasAces

 **Las Vegas Aces** • @lasvegasaces  
Welcome back @gcharbonneau

 **Hockey is for MEN** • @hockeyfan21  
so gross is there anyone whos not gay playing 4 d aces?

 **we are the warriors** • acesgrrrl  
and here come the homophobes. even with his shoulder injury, charbo could take any of em.

♤

Kent’s house looks the same, at the edge of town, and his garden blends with the desert around it. He has neighbours, now, though. 

“Zimms is home,” he says, as he pulls into the driveway. 

“Right,” says Gabriel. When he gets out of the car, he doesn’t even put up a fight when Kent hefts his case out of the trunk. “It’s okay for me to stay?” 

“I’d be offended if you stayed anywhere else,” says Kent. He pauses on the doorstep. “I mean, I’ve got one of the guest rooms made up for you. I didn’t mean—” Gabriel watches as the back of Kent’s neck goes red. 

“No,” says Gabriel. “I know.” He reaches up and squeezes Kent’s left shoulder with his left hand and Kent shudders slightly beneath his touch. “It’s not your fault,” says Gabriel, softly. 

“I could have stopped the trade. I’m _captain_ ,” says Kent, as though they haven’t had a variation on this argument for years. “I could have _said_ —”

“Nothing,” says Gabriel. “Kent, there’s nothing you could have said. Aces got a great deal out of it. Jack Zimmermann and two more Stanley Cups?” 

“But maybe _I_ didn’t get a great deal,” says Kent. He turns to face Gabriel and they’re standing in his cool, white, marble-floored front hall. 

“Jack Zimmermann and two more Stanley Cups?” Gabriel lifts his hand to cup Kent’s cheek. “I’d say you got a great deal.”

Kent leans in and Gabriel doesn’t pull away when Kent kisses him, softly and sweetly, and then Kent’s arms are around his waist and he’s hauling Gabriel in close and making quiet noises against Gabriel’s mouth like he’s trying to keep talking. 

“Kent, do you fellas— Oh, lord.” 

Gabriel pulls back and blinks at Kent before they both turn to look at Eric Bittle. 

“Sorry, Bittle,” says Kent, easily. He doesn’t extract himself from Gabriel the way Gabriel expects him to, instead keeping an arm around Gabriel’s waist. 

“Hush now, Kent Parson. You know full well that it’s Zimmermann now.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” says Gabriel. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Kent, you could have told him,” says Eric, reproachfully. 

“You said not to tell anyone.”

“I also said you could bring a plus one to the wedding but you didn’t,” says Eric and Gabriel suspects this is an old bone of contention but Jack Zimmermann, NHL star, is married and Gabriel didn’t know. “Honestly, Gabriel, this boy.”

Gabriel smiles like he has any idea what Eric means by that. “So, Kent told me I can expect pie?” 

“Well, he never told me what your favourite pie is so I made a selection.”

Gabriel is ushered into the kitchen by Eric, who looks like he’s at home here, and the outside door opens and Jack Zimmermann walks in, a towel around his waist and his hair dripping wet, and he and Gabriel stare at each other for a split second. 

“Welcome to the Aces’ gay enclave,” says Kent, dryly. “Zimms, put some clothes on.” He guides Gabriel, by the elbow, to the breakfast bar. “Their pool is out of commission so I said they could use mine.” 

“Sure,” says Gabriel, trying not to seem too overwhelmed. Before, Kent’s house was mausoleum-like, with just Kent and Kit occupying a corner of it. Now, with neighbours (friends), coming in and out as they please, it feels more like a home. It feels more like Kent’s home. 

“I’ll put your case away,” says Kent and he and Zimms walk down the corridor, elbowing each other and laughing and, for a moment, Gabriel wonders if he’s intruding. Apparently, Zimmermann is married now but that doesn’t mean there can’t be some arrangement and Kent clearly likes Eric a lot. 

Gabriel feels suddenly so very tired. It’s a long way from Montreal but he’s not sure Montreal is home anymore. 

“Those boys,” says Eric, fondly. “It’s like herding cats when they’re not on the ice.” He rummages around in the fridge for a while before producing a smoothie. “It’s got ginger in it. Kent knew that much, I guess, that you like ginger in your fruit smoothies?”

Gabriel nods weakly. 

“I guess that it must be overwhelming,” says Eric. His eyes are so kind and he smiles. “Lord, I can’t even imagine what it must be like but we’re glad you’re here. For Kent.” 

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to play again,” says Gabriel. He doesn’t mean to blurt it out but there it is; there are the words, floating in the kitchen and he can’t take them back. “My - my shoulder hurts all the time, no matter what I do.” 

He looks up and Kent is staring at him from the doorway, eyes wide and shocked, and his mouth open. 

“Kent,” says Gabriel but Kent is already turning away. 

Gabriel almost knocks over his smoothie (which is delicious) as he scrambles off his stool to catch up with Kent. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“You said you could play,” says Kent, fiercely. “In the car. You said you could play.” 

“Sometimes, I think I can,” says Gabriel. “Sometimes, I think it’s all in my head but it hurts, Kent.”

“We have great doctors here.”

“I’ve seen great doctors.” Gabriel laughs bitterly. “The Aeros spared no expense and now the Aces are going to see that it’s been a waste of money bringing me back when they could have gotten Gibson or Sharpov.” 

“How can you say that? How can you say that bringing you— bringing you _home_ was a waste of money? If I’d known what was going to happen, I’d never have let you go.” 

Somehow, they’re standing forehead to forehead, too close to look into each other’s eyes but they’re clutching each other. 

“When I went to Montreal, I thought it would be okay. It _was_ okay. I got to play with Bergy again —”

“How is he?” asks Kent, absently, his fingers running through Gabriel’s curls. 

“Good. My sister’s pregnant again so, you know.” 

“Beastly will be over later,” says Kent. “He wanted to welcome you back. Terry, too. Hell, I think Bash is gonna fly down from Vancouver just to see you with his own eyes.” 

“Beastly must miss him.” 

“It’s kinda gross. They Skype every day.”

“Yeah,” whispers Gabriel. “Gross.” They’re kissing again before he knows it and maybe, if he can’t play, if he doesn’t make the cut, it’ll be okay. He’s not going back to the Foxes. He’ll retire. He’ll keep house. He’ll ask Eric to teach him how to bake. 

“Charbo,” says Kent, after a while. “You know I—” 

“Yeah,” says Gabriel. “I do.” He kisses Kent again. “You’d better have been about to say you love me,” he says when he pulls back. “Else I’ll kick your ass, fucked-up shoulder and all.”

“Love you?” asks Kent. “Kid, I’m crazy about you.” 

“Even if I can’t play hockey?”

“Fuck, maybe it’ll give some of the rest of us a look-in for those sexiest NHL player polls.” 

“Right, because all those Art Ross and Hart trophies are lonely.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be seen as one-dimensional.”

Gabriel snorts. He kisses Kent again because he can, because he’s come home. “Like you don’t count for at least fifty per cent of my votes in those stupid magazines.” 

“Do you know how many separate email addresses I have so I can make sure my boy gets the recognition he deserves?” 

Gabriel laughs and he turns and threads his fingers between Kent’s to bring him back into the kitchen, where Eric is standing, looking a little concerned, even though Zimmermann is there, looking huge and awkward. Gabriel realises he never actually greeted him. 

“Jack,” he says. “Ca va?

Zimmermann smiles, which is an incredible expression on his normally-solemn face, and he reaches out with a giant hand to shake Gabriel’s. “Looking forward to playing with you,” he says. 

“Yeah,” says Gabriel, glancing quickly at Kent, who still looks a bit stricken. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Well, I have to go down to the store to close up. Jack, why don’t you drive me? We can give these boys a bit of privacy before the masses arrive. Help yourself to pies. They’re all yours.” Eric ushers Jack out of the kitchen with consummate ease. 

“I’m meeting the physio team tomorrow,” says Gabriel. “They’ll give it to me straight.” He kisses Kent’s cheek. “I’m going to nap. Which guest room am I in?”

Kent clears his throat. “So, funny story.”

Gabriel doesn’t know why he’s surprised. “Your room?”

Kent nods. 

“Come on, then,” says Gabriel. “Come lie down with me.” 

Gabriel’s almost asleep, Kent’s arm around his waist, when Kent murmurs, “Losing you was like having the rug taken out from under me.”

“You didn’t lose me,” says Gabriel, quietly. “You won’t lose me.”

♤

 **Kent Parson** • @kentparson  
look who’s back #favoriteroommate

♤

When Gabriel steps out onto the ice for the first time at training camp, everyone is quiet. He skates over to Kent who’s gazing at him like he’s never seen him before and he smiles at him and Kent smiles back, dazedly. 

Gabriel barely hears Kent’s shout as he skates away with the puck. He passes it to Zimmermann who’s never above wanting to get one up on Kent Parson and he slots it neatly between the pipes. 

Kent catches up and crowds Gabriel up against the boards. “You can play,” he says, softly.

“I can try,” says Gabriel, helpless in the face of Kent’s determination. “I promise I can try.” 

“Lovebirds!” shouts Jeff. “We’ve got a championship to defend! Stop canoodling!”

“I can’t believe Jeff got the A,” says Gabriel as he and Kent skate back to the team. 

“Desperate times, desperate measures,” says Kent. 

♤

Gabriel’s there when they raise the banner, before the first game of the season, and he didn’t win this championship, and he watches as Zimmermann laughs at Kent’s attempts to be the last to touch the banner ( _give it up, Kenny_ ) and he knows that Kent’s driving a giant SUV now because he ferries rookies around like it’s a school run and he knows that even if he has to retire at Christmas, or at the end of the season, it’ll be okay because he’s come home.


End file.
